


No More Shadows

by spring_revival



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Blind Character, Deaf Character, Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-04-23 18:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4887469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spring_revival/pseuds/spring_revival
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loving someone is easy when you know they love you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. They Say You go Blind

**Author's Note:**

> I'm bad at summaries, sorry. It's all very happy because there aren't enough happy spring awakening fanfics. This is my first spring awakening fanfiction! Comments make me very happy:)

Moritz had never imagined himself dating Melchior Gabor. Before they became friends, Moritz had hardly imagined Melchior would even talk to him. There wasn't much there, in Moritz mind, for one to like. Or love. Moritz was a scrawny schoolboy who dressed in oversized shirts and long socks that would never stay up. He was never seen without his sunglasses. His mom was always telling him to get his hair to stay down, because it all stuck up in various directions. She never did get what she asked for. Moritz didn't much care about his appearance, though, because he had never seen himself. Not once. Blind since birth, Moritz didn't think it mattered. Moritz was a simple person. He never questioned authority, unlike Melchior. Moritz was reserved and introverted, only talking loudly once he knew someone well. Melchior was the flashlight in a dark room, the one people drew to for light, friends with all. Melchior and Moritz were different in all aspects of the word, so how is it that they would ever become friends?

At the beginning of the year, Moritz was assigned a seat next to Melchior in almost every class-- nowhere near to his two best friends, Ernst and Wendla. He began coming in to class early, eventually recognizing the sound of Melchior's footsteps against the hard floor, sometimes accompanied by other unknown footsteps. Moritz would listen for Melchior's chair to be slid out from his desk for him to sit. He smelled of pine and oranges, and was identifiable every time he walked into a room. Every day, Melchior greeted him with a simple "Good morning!" and Moritz felt queasy. Then at the end of the school day, Melchior world pack up and say, "Have a nice evening!" then leave. Moritz would walk home, tapping his cane down the sidewalk, day dreaming about Melchior Gabor.

It was October, and Moritz was in the lunch room with Ernst and Wendla sitting across from him. Wendla was talking about something having to with the new student Ilse that she hadn't been able to shut up about, and suddenly she was interrupted.

"Hello, sorry." Moritz's heart stopped. Pine and oranges. Melchior Gabor approached his lunch table!

"Can we sit here?" Melchior asked. Moritz didn't know who "we" was, but he knew it included Melchior. Someone kicked him under the table--probably Ernst. Moritz turned around.

"Uh, yes, of c-course!" He stuttered. He felt a hand on his shoulder and Melchior slid into the seat beside him.

Others sat down around Moritz. Suddenly a voice spoke up, "Hey Melchior, isn't this that weird guy that sits next to you in class?" Moritz didn't know what to say. He didn't particularly enjoy being referred to as the "weird guy," but the fact that people talked about him at all made him happy. He didn't know whether that was healthy or not. He figured it wasn't, but he couldn't help it. He liked being noticed.

"Well that's not very nice, Thea." Moritz's head shot up. Melchior was... Defending him?

"Yeah, whatever. Sorry," Thea muttered. "It's fine," Moritz whispered, shoulders hunched in.

"Moritz, this is just me, Thea, Hanschen, Otto, Martha, Georg, and Anna. Anyway!" Melchior clapped his hands together, "Our usual table has been taken over by some very rude people, not going to say any names--" someone snorted, and a voice Moritz recognized as Hanschen coughed and said " _Bobby Maler_ ," then coughed again.

"It doesn't matter though," Melchior concluded, "because you all seem like great people to be around!" Moritz realized his mouth had been hanging open ever since Melchior had begun to talk.

Hanschen laughed. "You're very quiet. Are you intimidated by us?" Moritz didn't particularly like Hanschen's tone of voice, but he didn't take personal offence. Hanschen spoke like this to everyone. And he was right, they were intimidated. Moritz, Wendla, and Ernst were a clan of introverts, happy to be left alone, not often seeking company from others... Except maybe each other. No one said anything, but the silence spoke for itself.

A new voice spoke up. "So who else saw Mariana holding hands with that douche after school yesterday?" It was Otto, another person Moritz had never spoken to. "Wasn't that weird?" "That wasn't weird, you're just jealous," Martha said, clearly amused. "I am not!" Otto protested. "I just don't like that guy." The conversation continued on for the rest of lunch. Every once in a while, Wendla would say something, or Ernst. Moritz stayed silent the while time, content to listen and be so close to Melchior.

The next day, the group came back. And the day after that. Eventually, they were no longer two separate friend groups, but a single unit. Moritz grew to know each of them more and more with each passing day. Eventually Moritz began to engage in conversation with them. He didn't have much to say, but what little he did say, they listened. Melchior would ask him questions, and he would respond. Every simple exchange of words made his heart swell. Melchior began to try to help Moritz during class, only to have the teacher yell at them.

So, Melchior told Moritz, "Would you like to come to my house after school today? I could help you with the homework in biology." Moritz smiled slightly. "Alright!" he agreed.

After school, the students packed up their things and Moritz felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, ready to go?" Melchior asked. Moritz nodded and they headed out. Moritz had never been to Melchior's house, so he wouldn't have been able to find it on his own of he'd wanted to. With Melchior there, he didn't /need/ his cane, so they left with Melchior's hand on Moritz's elbow. Melchior navigated him through the busy hallway full of wild students. Once inside the Gabor house, they were greeted by Melchior's mother.

"You must be Moritz!" She exclaimed. "Melchior talks so much about you, it's so nice to finally have you over." Moritz's face grew hot, and be assumed Melchior might be embarrassed as well. The idea that Melchior talked about him to his mother made Moritz weak in the knees.

"Let's go to my room, Moritz," Melchior suggested, so he led him through the house and up the stairs, into a room that smelled like Melchior-- pine and oranges. Melchior brought Moritz to a large bed, offering for him to sit down. Moritz obeyed, then felt a dip in the mattress where Melchior had sat. Moritz took his book out and set it on his lap. Melchior shifted on the bed beside him. The book was abnormally larger than the other students' books. It was braille, which made it thicker Melchior also took out his regular-sized book, and began to read. It was for English class, and they were assigned a certain number of pages. Moritz had trouble in English class, as he did in just about every other class. After twenty minutes of reading silently, Moritz suddenly threw up his hands in defeat and groaned, dramatically falling back onto the bed. Melchior laughed.

"Having trouble?" he asked. Moritz put his hands under his head.

"Only _always_ ," he muttered.

Melchior laughed again, and proceeded to ask Moritz what he was confused about. He helped Moritz with just about every subject for the next hour or so, until Moritz had to go home.

~~~~~~~~

The next day, Melchior invited Moritz over again. Then the day after that. Melchior wasn't sure why it has started in the first place, but he enjoyed helping and spending time with Moritz. They grew to know each other more and more every afternoon. After a while Moritz had took to calling Melchior 'Melchi,' which Melchior found endearing and didn't mind at all. Their after school study sessions had become a sort of routine, one that had not gone unnoticed by their peers.

One day at lunch, Thea brought it to attention. "Hey Melchior, how come you and Moritz are always walking home from school together? Why do you do that?" Melchior noticed Moritz stiffen in his seat next to him.

"Why does anyone do anything, Thea?!" Melchior retorted, immediately worried he appeared defensive and embarrassed. He wasn't embarrassed about spending time with Moritz, far from it. He just didn't like Thea's attitude.

Probably.

His friends laughed and moved on with the conversation, although he couldn't help but notice Moritz acting strange. He hadn't smiled since Thea's question (even when Georg was making fun of Otto about his wet dreams. Moritz usually found that hilarious). He wasn't talking at all. Usually by now he usually would've said something. Melchior tried to forget about it throughout the day.

When their last class ended and he and Moritz usually departed for Melchior's home, Moritz was, again, unusually quiet.

"Ready to go, Moritz?" He asked cheerfully. Moritz frowned, but reluctantly stood up.

"Yeah," he murmured. Once they arrived at Melchior's house and reached Melchior's room, the got themselves figured on the bed and begun to work. Moritz had begun to fidget and his nose wrinkled. His expression was, as always, half hidden by his large sunglasses so Melchior wasn't positive what Moritz was feeling.

Moritz suddenly stopped typing on his typewriter. "Why are you doing this?" he asked.

Melchior stopped working and looked over at him. "Doing what?" He asked innocently. Moritz made an aggrivated sound.

"Don't play dumb with me, Melchi." Melchior stayed silent. He had never heard Moritz talk with such concise and clear wording. His voice was normally so soft, and he often stuttered, tripping over his words. Melchior didn't know what it was, all he knew was that he was incredibly turned on.

"If you're so embarrassed that people know your hanging out with me, why do you do it? What's in this for you?" Melchior grew indignant. He could not /believe/ Moritz would accuse him of being embarrassed by this.

"I'm not embarrassed!"

Moritz laughed, "Ha! Oh really? Then tell me why you want to be around _me_? I'm the weird one that no one talks to, I'm the one barely anyone can deal to be around, the only people besides Ernst and Wendla who talk to me are your friends and they only do because you do!"

Moritz paused. "Is it pity? If that what all this shit is?"

Suddenly Melchior found himself leaning forward and kissing Moritz. He didn't know what had come over him. Regretting his decision immediately, he was about to break away when he suddenly felt Moritz kissing back. Moritz brought his hands up to Melchior's face, placing one hand on either side. They parted, and Moritz's hands fell.

"Oh," Moritz said, his voice soft enough to be called a whisper. "I didn't--I thought--can I touch you?" He asked.

"What?" Melchior asked, incredibly confused. All he wanted was for Moritz to take off his glasses. He wanted to see his whole face.

"Can I touch you." Moritz repeated, less of a question and more of a command. "Your face. I don't know, you don't have to let me. I've just never touched another face but mine before." He brought his hands up toward his chest reaching out ever do slightly. Melchior realized Moritz was asking if he could feel Melchior's face.

"Yes... Yes." he murmured. Moritz placed his hands in either side of Melchior's face and slowly began to move his thumbs further toward Melchior's nose and map out his face. His fingers were light and soft, uncalloused. Melchior closed his eyes and held his breath, trying to not get in Moritz way at all.

Eventually Moritz dropped his hands. "You feel nice," he stated.

Melchior smirked. "The kissing or the face-touching?" Moritz blushed, turning his face away.

"I'm just kidding," Melchior smiled, ruffling Moritz's hair.

"What are we going to be, now?" Moritz asked. "Do we have to be something?" Melchior asked.

"Do we need a label?" Moritz didn't look impressed.

"You know our friends don't care of you're gay..." he reminded Melchior, who scooted back indignantly.

"I'm not gay!" He exclaimed.

"Pan, bisexual, whatever."

"No I mean I'm straight!" Melchior protested, and Moritz's mouth feel open.

"You're unbelievable is what you are," he said, and turned around, facing away from Melchior. Melchior reached his hand out toward Moritz. Of course he wasn't straight. He /knew/ he wasn't straight, he'd been pining for Moritz since the beginning of the school year, but... He just thought maybe be could pretend, and his feelings would go away. He couldn't do this to Moritz, though.

"No, no I'm sorry. Look, I'm sorry." Moritz slowly turned around.

"And you're right," Melchior continued. "I am gay. I think." Moritz smiled. Then his face fell. "I've never been attracted to anyone before. I've never wanted to kiss anyone, or get to know anyone more that just on a friendly level." Melchior glanced over.

"Touch me." He breathed.

"Wha--" Moritz couldn't finish, because Melchior kissed him again, running his hands through his hair. Moritz's glasses fell to the floor and he ducked his head, eyes closed. Melchior brought his head down so that he was level with Moritz.

"Hey. What's wrong?" Moritz shook his head.

"Don't." He whispered. "I don't... I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"What do you mean?" Melchior asked. Moritz rubbed his nose.

"My dad makes me wear glasses so I don't make people uncomfortable about seeing my eyes..." Melchior held Moritz hands. "Hey, you don't have to worry about that around me." Melchior told him. "I don't care what you look like."

Moritz raised his head and his eyes fluttered open and Melchior looked into them. It was slightly unnerving how Moritz's sightless eyes seemed to look through him. But there wasn't anything _wrong_ with them.

"You're quiet," Moritz stated, waking Melchior from his trance.

"Is it bad?" Moritz asked. Melchior shook his head slowly, before realizing that that did nothing.

"No. Your eyes are beautiful." He said. Moritz frowned.

"You're lying."

Melchior shook his head again. "There's nothing different about your eyes than any other brown eyes, except they're lighter.

Moritz smiled. "You do know I don't know what brown is?" Melchior laughed, hitting Moritz lightly on the head with his book.

"Ow!" Moritz gasped. "Nice, hit the blind one."

Melchior hit him again.

"This is abuse. I can't help not knowing colors. Colors shouldn't even exist." Melchior laughed again.

"Let's get back to working, no?" He offered. Moritz picked his book back up and began to read. Melchior noticed that he didn't put back on his sunglasses.

~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Melchior arrived at Moritz's house exactly 45 minutes before school started. Moritz's mother called him while he was getting his bag ready. "Moritz!" She yelled. "It's your friend Melchior!" Moritz grabbed his things and flew down the hall, trailing one hand along the wall. "Melchi--" he said, reaching the door way. He heard footsteps as his mother retreated to the kitchen.

"What are you doing here?" Moritz asked, stepping outside toward the aroma of pine and oranges.

"I was wondering if you wanted to walk to school with me today."

Moritz smiled. "Oh, yes, I'd love that!" He turned around and called to his mother to tell her he was leaving, and then Melchior took Moritz's hand on his and began to walk. Moritz knew his way to school well, so Melchior's guidance wasn't needed. Although, he did like holding Melchior's hand so he kept quiet and didn't get his cane from his bag.

"Moritz?" Melchior said, once they were about a block from Moritz's house.

"Yes Melchi?" Melchior didn't say anything for a few moments.

"Would you... Would you like to go somewhere with me? Later?" Moritz had never heard Melchior talk with this kind of uncertainty. He was normally do sure of himself! Moritz actually found it rather endearing.

"Somewhere?" He asked.

Melchior's palm grew sweaty in Moritz's hand.

"Oh, I don't know. The movies?"

Moritz laughed. He'd never been to the movies, but he assumed there wouldn't be much for him to do there but listen to the dialogue and sound effects.

"Wait, I mean... Crap, that was stupid. What about going downtown? Or out to eat or something?"

Moritz stood up straighter.

"Are you asking me out on a date, Melchior?" Silence.

"I guess I am." Melchior murmured. Moritz smiled. "Yes." he said. Melchior stopped waking. "What?" "I said yes. When are you free?" Moritz felt like he was skyrocketing. He couldn't believe that _he_ was the one under control and Melchior was stuttering and tripping over his words. "What about Friday after school? My mom will be back with the car, I can drive." Moritz squeezed his hand. "Alright," he agreed.

Once they reached the school, Moritz could practically feel the people staring at him. He heard voices of all sorts, too far away to tell what they were saying and who they were. Suddenly he heard footsteps running toward him. He held his breathe trying to guess what Melchior was doing or how he would react.

"Melchior! Moritz!" It was Anna.

Moritz let out a sigh.

"Hey guys, you'll never believe--" she paused. "Are you two a thing now?"  

Moritz felt his cheeks grow warm.

"Yeah." Melchior stated. Moritz raised his eyebrows. Of all the things he thought would happen he never expected Melchior to tell the truth.

"Awww that's so great!" Anna cooed. Melchior squeezed Moritz's hand.

"Well I gotta get to class, see you guys at lunch!"

 

Moritz and Wendla arrived at the table early before anyone else did. Moritz slowly unpacked his lunch. Wendla hadn't said much since they met outside the cafeteria, and Moritz was worried something was wrong.

"Wendla, are you ok?" He asked.

"What--oh! No I'm fine!" She quickly replied. "I saw you with Melchior this morning" She murmured.

"Oh, yeah... He walked me--with me-- to school." Moritz thought he heard Wendla giggle, but he couldn't be sure.

" _Moritz_." she said, "are you two... Dating?" Moritz smiled softly.

"I think so," he said.

" _Eeeek_!" She exclaimed. "My little Moritz, finally hitched."

"You aren't my mother, you know."

"Did you hear the news, Ernst?" Wendla asked happily as Ernst's soft footsteps approached,

"Moritz has a boyfriend!"

Ernst groaned, "Now if only I could achieve that level of nirvana with Hanschen." His bag hit the ground with a thump. "So who is this lucky ducky?"

Moritz snorted. "Do you hear yourself?"

Wendla laughed. "It's Melchior!" She squealed. Someone, presumably Wendla, kicked Moritz under the table.

"Melchior?!" Ernst asked. "How?"

Moritz scoffed. "I assure you I'm more irresistible than I appear. Apparently." All three laughed.

"What's so funny?" Asked Melchior, walking toward the table.

"Nothing!" Wendla quickly responded.

"Alright then," Melchior sat down to Moritz's left.

After a few more minutes, everyone else had made their way to the table. Hanschen was complaining to Ernst about the stupid people in his chemistry class while Martha and Thea helped Georg with his English homework. Moritz sat quietly, listening to the chaotic buzz of his friends' conversations. Melchior hadn't said much, aside from commenting about how loud their table was and how, "it's a wonder they haven't kicked us out of the cafeteria yet, honestly."

Moritz was snapped out of his daze by Melchior's voice.

"What?" He asked.

"I said, we should probably get back to class soon. I wanted to go early to study for the quiz, and its probably quieter there."

Moritz got up from the table, "Ok," he agreed.

Then before Moritz had time to process what was happening, Melchior kissed him right in front of the whole table. Suddenly they all grew quiet. Moritz felt his cheeks burn.

"Wow, Anna wasn't lying!" Said Georg. Melchior took Moritz hand and led him away from the table. Moritz wondered if anyone was still staring. He didn't know whether he liked the attention or not.

 

Later after last period Melchior had to go to a doctor's appointment, so Moritz was going to walk back to his own house. Before he left the school, he was walking through a crowded hallway when he literally ran into somebody. He had no idea how it could have happened, seeing as how he had his cane out directly in front of him to avoid obstacles.

"I'm sorry!" He exclaimed, trying his best to collect himself.

"Oh, it's fine. It was probably my fault, actually." Hanschen. He probably ran into him on purpose, Moritz thought, for Hanschen would never actually be that careless.

"Although isn't it funny that we happened to bump into each other? I've been meaning to talk to you." Moritz didn't know what he was supposed to say. Hanschen had always slightly intimidated him, but he didn't know how to say 'no.'

"How about you come over? I could help you with Latin in your boyfriend's absence."

"Alright," Moritz agreed, and they headed to Hanschen's house.

Once there, Moritz folded his cane and put it in his bag. Hanschen led Moritz by his elbow to his room, and shut the door. Moritz heard the lock click and stood inside the room, feeling uneasy.

"Oh, don't freak out." Hanschen sighed, "I'm not going to murder you. My parents are just very invasive and I'd rather they not interrupt us, wouldn't you?" Moritz didn't entirely agree with that statement. Maybe if Hanschen's parents came he wouldn't have to be in here, listening to a voice that sounded surprisingly similar to that of a serial killer's.

"Yes..." Moritz finally said.

"Well alright then. You can sit anywhere."

Moritz stood a moment longer, then hesitantly sat on the floor where he was.

Hanschen sighed, "Well you don't have to sit on the /floor/!"

Moritz quickly scrambled to his feet, embarrassed. "Oh, please stop talking Moritz, you never shut up," Hanschen grumbled sarcastically, taking Moritz's arm and dragging him to a different part of the room.

Moritz was shoved onto a couch with an "oof!" Hanschen sat down beside him and unzipped his bag.

"Honestly, I'm not that much of an asshole. I'm not going to throw you out my window or anything."

Moritz didn't say anything.

"Hey." Hanschen said sternly, placing his hand on top of Moritz's head. Moritz jumped at the sudden contact.

"Stop ignoring me. I know you hate me but I..." Moritz was surprised at Hanschen's uncertainty."I need your help. And you need mine."

Moritz was utterly confused. He knew Hanschen could help him, what with Latin and all... But Hanschen had high grades in all classes!

"How can _I_ help _you_?" Moritz asked.

"It's simple, oh Moritz if few words. You are in a relationship. I am not." Moritz was still confused-- if not more than before.

"Of course this is a shock to us all, for I am a beautiful blonde with a charming smile and perfect hair, while you are..." Hanschen paused. "Well, I guess none of this would matter to you, now, would it?" Moritz was slightly offended and possibly mortified, but Hanschen was right that Moritz didn't much care about appearances. grumbled. "Let's just work on our homework." Hanschen suggested

So Moritz and Hanschen began. Moritz's type writer was the only sound for a while, until Moritz had absolutely no idea what the sentence he was reading meant, and he realized he needed help.

"Um, Hanschen?" He questioned.

"What is it?" Hanschen asked, his tone of voice suggesting he was only half listening

"Well I don't think I quiet get this... I'm a little confused."

Hanschen scooted closet to Moritz, even though there was nothing for him to read since it all was in braille.

"I couldn't agree more. You and Melchior must broadcast your love to the world. PDA is a problem of the '90s, in this century we are proud of our love and are not afraid to show it." That was not at all what Moritz was confused about, and had nothing to do with Latin. From what Hanschen had said, though, Moritz didn't think he liked the idea of letting everyone see him doing things that should be more private than public.

"I don't know if we're that kind of couple--" Moritz started. "Of course you are. Anyway, now that I've helped you with your relationship, you are in my debt." Hanschen laid a hand on Moritz's shoulder.

"You have to help _me_ , now."

Moritz tried to scoot away from Hanschen. "What do you want?" He asked.

"How do you do it?" Hanschen replied. Moritz raised his head.

"What?" He asked.

Hanschen shifted on the couch. "Date... Someone. Ask them out, so to speak." Moritz was baffled.

"Are you asking _me_ for relationship advice, Hanschen?" Hanschen didn't say anything for a moment.

"I suppose I am, yes." He finally responded.

Moritz smiled, "Just ask him! It's Ernst, right? The one you like?"

Hanschen paused again. "Yes... Is it obvious? It must be obvious if the blind one noticed," Hanschen grumbled, half to himself.

"Oh it's not like it's a secret!" Moritz laughed, "We all know you're both obsessed with each other." Moritz was still rolling over the fact that Hanschen thought no one knew.

"You mean... Ernst might like me as well?" Moritz laughed again.

"Might?! That loser never shuts up about you. I don't know why honestly. You must be pretty hot, 'cause I I don't know what else you have going for you." Hanschen scoffed. "So /now/ you're all talkative-- just to ridicule me."

"Sorry." Moritz apologized. "I just realized you aren't really as horrifying as I've always imagined you'd be." Moritz thought for a moment. "You're kind of just a ass. But like... Now it's endearing." Hanschen coughed.

"So is that at all a good thing?"

"Yes. I think so," Moritz decided. "Just tell him how you feel. He's just as oblivious as you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
The following morning Melchior showed up at Moritz's house again to walk to school. He took Moritz's hand in his and they left. Moritz was still thinking about everything that had happened at Hanschen's the night before. Now he kind of understood why it was possible for Melchior and Hanschen to be friends... Even if their strong personalities clashed.

"Melchi... I went over to Hanschen's house yesterday."

Melchior stopped walking.

"You what?" He asked quietly.

"Oh nothing happened... He just wanted relationship advice. That loser had no idea Ernst had a crush on him."

Melchior laughed. "You're kidding! No idea?!" They began to walk again.

"None! He wanted me to tell him how to ask Moritz out.

"How to-- he could ask Ernst to be his sex slave and Ernst would say yes!"

Apparently Hanschen was much worse at social skills than either of them had previously thought.

"Well I never thought you liked me," Moritz admitted.

"You--really?!" Melchior asked, surprised.

"Well everyone likes you, and you could have practically everyone. I'm the one who makes everyone uncomfortable." Melchior squeezed Moritz hand.

"You don't make me uncomfortable," he said.

"I didn't think so, since a couple days ago your tongue was down my throat." Melchior laughed.

"You're so cute."

Moritz smiled, "No you."

"You."

" _You!_ "

"Aren't we just disgusting?"

"The absolute worst," Moritz agreed.


	2. There is Love in Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! It's been about a month since the first chapter, but I hope you like this one. Comments always appreciated!!

Wendla tried not to get too emotionally invested in the new student. She had had crushes before, and they all ended in heartache for her. She didn't want to go through that emotional rollercoaster again.

Still, Wendla couldn't help but glance over at her during biology. And English. And just about every class she had with her.

Alright, so it was a little too late for her to not be emotionally invested. Still, the girl was cute! Her name was Ilse, and she had dark brown curly hair and the bluest eyes. She was always wearing long, flowery dresses. Her ears didn't exactly work correctly like Wendla's did, so more often than not she was seen with her blue hearing aids.

Wendla's friends Moritz and Ernst always were trying to get Wendla to talk to Ilse (once Melchior and his friends joined their table, they began to bother her about it too). Wendla had never gone through with it, although she had taught herself sign language through online tutorials in preparation for them ever actually meeting.

Finally, it happened. Wendla was leaving class to go to lunch on a Tuesday afternoon when she, quite literally, bumped into Ilse. She hadn't mean to, honestly. Wendla had only been rushing out to meet her friends, when she ran into Ilse who dropped all her books in surprise.

"I'm so sorry!" Wendla exclaimed, vending down to pick up Ilse's things.

"It's alright." Ilse replied in what Wendla figured was the sweetest voice she'd ever heard.

It was deep, lower than Wendla had imagined. But clear and concise. Wendla made eye contact with Ilse for a moment, before Ilse broke away, blushing and taking her things.

"I should go--"

"Where are you going for lunch?" Wendla heard herself ask. She immediately blushed, looking away toward the door. "Well, I mean, I sit with my friends in the cafeteria and if you'd like to come--"

"Sorry, I can't today," Ilse interrupted and just like that, she was gone.

Wendla sighed and left for her lunch table. Surely she hadn't done anything wrong! What could have made Ilse leave so quickly? Maybe she had somewhere to be. That must be it, Wendla thought to herself.

That afternoon, she went to the mall with Moritz, Ernst, and Martha to help Moritz get an outfit for his date with Melchior. He had insisted it wasn't a big deal and he didn't need new clothes, but the rest of them had begged to differ. So here she was, downtown with three of her best friends, in what she supposed was the single store that attracted the most hipsters in her entire town.

Fortunately for Moritz, that look was good on him. Currently Ernst and Martha were eyeing a couple of jackets on the second floor, adding more items of clothing to Moritz's stack that he currently held for them. Wendla was trying to help, but she couldn't get her mind off Ilse. Did Ilse hate her? Was that why she left so early? Wendla wished she could pick up on social cues!

She tried to snap out of it when Moritz called for her to hold some of the clothes that are about to bury him.

"Wendla! Any help?" He asked, struggling with the pile, no /mountain/ of shirts and pants.

"Oh, sorry dear!" She exclaimed, rushing over to help.

"Thanks," Moritz grumbled, handing her half the pile.

"Don't you think he should try some of this stuff on?" Wendla suggested, "Surely he's not buying all of this!" Martha gave Wendla a look that could only be described as judgmental.

"I guess. Moritz, this way," she agreed, dragging Moritz by his elbow toward the changing room. Ernst took Moritz's pile and gently pushing Moritz into the room. "Put on... This, this, and this," she told him, handing him an outfit that consisted of black jeans, a light blue sweater, and a button up shirt to go beneath the sweater. Moritz took the items one at a time, figuring out what they were, then he closed the door to the changing room and the rest waited outside.

"You sure are quiet today," Ernst noted.

Wendla looked up, glancing over at him.

"Me?" She asked, knowing the answer. "I'm not... What do you mean?" Wendla knew they know something was up. Even just the ambiguous question Ernst asked was enough to show that much.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, looking concerned.

Immediately Wendla assured him, "Nothing's wrong! It's nothing! I just... Saw someone the other day, and--"

"Was it that Ilse girl?" Moritz called from behind the door.

"How did you... Yes." Wendla admitted. "Ugh, I can't stop thinking about her! Wendla sighed, sitting down on a bench with a 'thud.' Martha walked over toward her and say beside her.

"What happened? Did you talk to her? I wanna know _everything_." Wendla laughed at Martha's eagerness, and glanced over at Ernst who smiled reassuringly.

"It wasn't really anything, we just bumped into each other... And I sort of invited her to sit with us at lunch... But she said she had to be somewhere." Wendla paused. "What does that mean? Does she hate me?" Moritz and Martha laughed.

"Stop it, guys!" Ernst told them. The door to the changing room opened and Moritz stepped out, one hand on the side of the doorway.

"So... Sorry to interrupt your relationship problems," Moritz stated. "Oh shut up!" Wendla exclaimed.

"It looks great! Not too fancy, but not overly casual like your usual clothes. Your glasses look nice with the outfit, too." Moritz laughed,

"Since when were you a fashion expert?" He asked her.

Martha narrowed her eyes at Moritz. "She's not wrong. I wouldn't normally pick those colors together, but it looks great."

Moritz ran a hand through his hair. "You do know colors mean nothing to me, right?" He murmured, crossing his arms.

Ernst groaned, "None of this means anything to you! It's kinda for Melchior!" Moritz nodded.

"Time for the next round!" Martha exclaimed, throwing more clothes at Moritz, who made a high-pitched squealing noise and staggered back. Ernst laughed, and Wendla stared toward the entrance of the store, wondering if they'd ever get out of here before the store closed.

~~~~~~~

Ilse wasn't a big fan of moving. New places and new people weren't really her favorite thing. She hated having to explain her disability to people, and she hated the looks she got.

One of those looks was different, though. There was a girl named Wendla in her class who she always caught looking at her-- but her look was never one of confusion, or of judgment, or even pity. The look Wendla gave Ilse was one of wonder, longing. Ilse found herself looking at Wendla in the same way. Everyday Ilse's gaze would somehow end up in Wendla.

Everything about her was perfect. Her shining hair, her bright brown eyes, her smile that seemed to light up the entire room... It was mesmerising.

Ilse couldn't believe she had run away from Wendla. She had thought up millions of scenarios for how she and Wendla would meet, and none of them ended in her being a coward and running away! Most ended in Wendla asking her out then them getting married, but that was besides the point.

As Ilse walked around down town to get a feel for her new home, she was mentally kicking herself, repeatedly, for leaving Wendla. Ilse was also beginning to regret leaving her hearing aids at home. It was so much easier back in her old town when she knew where she was going and didn't need to ask for directions.

She continued to walk, while subconsciously hoping to run into a familiar face--even though she knew none would be here in this strange new town. She glanced into small stores, thinking that maybe if she had her hearing aids in she could buy something later.

Suddenly, as she peered into a small clothing store, she recognized one of her classmates, Martha. Then suddenly another familiar face rounded the corner of from behind a rack of clothes. Wendla.

~~~~~~~~~

Wendla tried to guess how long they had been in just this store her guess was about an entire millennium. Maybe two. She could tell Moritz was getting bored as well, since all he was really doing was putting on clothes and listening to Martha and Ernst judge them. So far, Martha liked the jean vest the most, and Ernst liked the flannel shirt.

Wendla had grown tired of sitting on the bench by the changing room, so she decided to look around more. The store wasn't incredibly large, so the changing rooms were only about fifteen feet from the entrance.

Wendla didn't really think any of the clothes were anything she'd buy, but that didn't mean she didn't like looking through them. She was by at the clearance rack when she noticed someone staring into the store.

Suddenly she realized who it was--the very person she couldn't get her mind off of. Ilse was looking into the store, directly at Wendla. She looked away after a second or two, then rushed inside the store. Wendla's heart stopped.

"Ilse!" she gasped, as Ilse approached. "What are you..." Ilse motioned toward her ear. She didn't have her hearing aids in.

"I'm deaf. If you didn't already notice," she told Wendla in a voice that was slightly louder that usual.

Wendla was excited to try to communicate through sign language, but also a little nervous. She didn't want to embarrass herself when she didn't know what Ilse was saying. She waved hello, blushing as Ilse smiled and looked at the ground.

 _How are you?_ Wendla signed, not knowing what else to say.

 _Good._ Ilse responded, smiling. She dropped her hands to her sides and looked over Wendla's shoulder towards the others. Wendla turned around and beckoned for Ilse to follow. Wendla didn't know if she would regret introducing her friends to Ilse. They were... A special bunch. Rowdy at times. Wendla wasn't sure if that would drive Ilse away. At least the louder and more obnoxious members weren't there.

"Hey guys!" She called. Ernst and Martha looked up from fixing Moritz's collar. Moritz looked miserable.

"This is Ilse, she's in some of my classes." Ernst smiled and waved.

"It's nice to meet you!" He greeted. Ilse smiled politely and glanced at Wendla.

"Oh! Um, she's partially deaf, and doesn't have her hearing aids right now..." Ernst withdrew, clearly embarrassed. Martha laughed, and ruffled Ernst hair.

"You're such a dork," she told him.

"Love you too," he responded hostilely.

Wendla saw Ilse look over at Moritz, who had been silent up to this point.  _He can't see_. She signed. The only way she knew how to tell Ilse he was blind. Ilse nodded. 

"So you're disabled too?" She asked Moritz. Moritz raised his eyebrows.

"Me?" He asked, "Oh, yeah I guess so. Wait you can't hear this can you...?" he trailed off. Martha snorted and Ilse face Wendla a questioning look. _He said yes_ Wendla signed. Ilse nodded. Wendla wished she could communicate better, but she wasn't exactly fluent in ASL. _Help?_ Wendla signed, motioning towards Moritz and the pile of clothes.

Ilse smiled and nodded, waking over. For the next half hour they helped Moritz narrow down the choices--or rather, they all narrowed down the choices for themselves and Moritz continued to remind them he didn't care in the slightest. They finally left the store, and Ilse told Wendla she should probably be going home.

 _Do you need a ride?_ Wendla asked. Ilse smiled and nodded. _Thank you!_ She signed. So Ernst drove them all home and Wendla walked into her house smiling, already wanting to see Ilse again. She didn't know if she could wait until school the next day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Ilse woke up the next morning she tried convincing herself that the events of the day before had all been a dream. Had she really just been with Wendla? Talking to her? And how did Wendla know sign language? Even if it was just the basics. All of her friends were so nice, too. Ilse hoped Wendla would ask her to come to lunch again.

She left for school in a rush, making sure to remember her hearing aids. All morning in her first few periods, Ilse fidgeted and glanced around, waiting for lunch time. Finally the bell rang, and Ilse looked over at Wendla who looked back at her. She smiled and grabbed her things, running over to Wendla's desk.

"Would you like to sit with us today?" Wendla offered. Ilse never wanted to leave her hearing aids at home again, Wendla had the loveliest voice.

"Ok!" Ilse agreed, and they hastily left the room.

"Hey Melchior!" Wendla called as she and Ilse approached their table. Melchior waved them over.

"Is this Ilse?" Wendla nodded. "It's nice to meet you. Melchior?" Moritz, on Melchior's right side, snorted. "So you only can't hear sometimes?" He asked cynically. Hanschen laughed and Thea punched Moritz in the arm. "Don't be an ass," she growled. Ilse was slightly alarmed at Moritz's words seeing as he had seemed like such a calm person yesterday, not at all confrontational.

"Sorry you were cursed with such an incurable disease," Isle spat coldly. Moritz frowned and said nothing. Immediately Ilse felt rather guilty. She hated when she spoke out like that... Which was exactly why she had no friends at her last school.

The table was quiet for about seven unbearable seconds, until Otto said "This is lunch time guys. You know, the half hour period where people talk?" So everyone begun to converse again. Ilse gave Moritz what she thought was a forgiving look (not that that did anything) and sat down with Wendla on the other side of the table, near Georg and Thea.

Thea had begun to ask Ilse questions about herself. Ilse wasn't one to expect to be talked about much, but she found that she enjoyed it. She especially enjoyed when Wendla asked her questions. Ilse loved when Wendla talked, and she loved even the smallest moments of Wendla showing interest in her.

Ilse tried incredibly hard to ignore her gigantic crush on Wendla. There was no universe in which Wendla could be anything but straight. She probably liked someone at the table, Ilse assumed. When she looked around Melchior seemed like the most possible candidate. He was everything most girls would want: handsome, confident, caring... There were no girls (that Ilse had noticed) currently dating him, so it must be any day now that he and Wendla would get together. The perfect boy for the perfect girl. Ilse was sure that she had no chance.

That afternoon, and walked back from school and went to her room to sulk. Her dad never got back from work until late at night, and even then he normally stumbled in drunk. With the house to herself, Ilse finally dragged herself out of bed to make dinner for herself. She microwaved a frozen breakfast burrito and sat on the couch to eat.

When no one was around, she didn't usually have her hearing aids in. They weren't always the most comfortable and it gave her an excuse to not answer the door on the off chance someone came to her house and she couldn't here them. It wasn't that Ilse hated people, but every once in a while she felt grateful for the time she got by herself in her empty house.

Over the weekend Ilse spent all her time thinking. She thought about her school work. She thought about all the new friends she had suddenly made, and hopefully would keep.

Mostly, though, Ilse thought about Wendla. She didn't think she would last two days without seeing her.

Eventually though, those two days were finally over and Ilse found herself practically running to school. She realized she was fidgeting in her desk more than usual, and every minute she glanced at the clock, waiting for lunch. Finally the bell rang, and Ilse just about flew over to Wendla's desk.

"Are you ready to go?" Wendla asked. Ilse nodded. She'd couldn't remember a time when she actually enjoyed being at school this much. At their lunch table she made sure to sit next to Wendla, which resulted in her being seated by Moritz. It wasn't that Ilse didn't like Moritz, she just... Didn't know how to act around him. The last thing she had said to him she realized was rather rude. It must suck to be so disabled that there isn't a cure, even a temporary one. At least Ilse could see Wendla. And here her magical voice clearly, when Ilse's hearing aids were in. Moritz could and would never see anyone in his life. It probably didn't matter to him though, but Ilse couldn't imagine in.

Suddenly Ilse realized she had been staring at Moritz for the past couple of minutes. She glanced away, embarrassed that someone else had noticed, although it appeared that they were all too busy talking to take note. Ilse noticed that almost everyone at the table was engaged in conversation except Moritz, and Ernst. Ernst couldn't get in eyes off of Hanschen, who was currently laughing about something with Wendla. Moritz was silent, still. No one was talking to him, not even his apparent best friend who was having a political debate with Thea and Anna.

Ilse glanced over to Wendla, then back at Moritz.

"Hi." Moritz turned toward her, head tilted sightly to the side.

"Are you talking to me?" He asked. Ilse nodded. Immediately embarrassed by her own gesture, she responded, "Yeah."

"Oh. Sorry, hi. I'm sorry about last week, by the way." He scratched the back of his head.

"It's ok." Ilse said. "I'm sorry too. I'm lucky, I guess."

"Well I don't actually care that much. It's not like I know any different. I guess I'm just jealous sometimes." Moritz sighed. "It's like, getting left out of something that everyone knows about except you."

Ilse blinked, trying to focus on just hearing him above the ruckus of the lunch room. "I know it's not the same, but I sort of understand what you're saying." Moritz brought his elbows up on the table and rested his chin on this hands.

"Well you know what it's like to hear... so when you can't it must be aggravating." Ilse thought about that. He was definitely right, although she still didn't know whether that was worse than not seeing all the time.

"Are we seriously arguing over whose got it worse?" Ilse mused.

Moritz laughed, "Yeah, also we barely know each other."

"Disabled friends at first sight--er--something."  Moritz laughed again.

"I like you." He said.

"I like you too," Ilse grinned.

~~~~~~~~

All throughout lunch Wendla had wanted to talk to Ilse. Truly she did, but by the time she got around to trying, Ilse was talking with Moritz. They appeared to be getting along well, and it wasn't like Wendla was going to interrupt them if Ilse was making friends. Especially since it was Moritz, who hadn't exactly seemed to take a liking to her the last lunch period. But they seemed to be liking each other now, which was a relief.

After the first day, Wendla noticed that Ilse began to talk to more of her friends, not just Moritz. By the first few weeks Ilse was, in Wendla's mind, well integrated into their group.

Wendla found herself feeling an emotion she didn't feel very often: jealousy. Now that Ilse was connected to everyone equally, she didn't talk specifically to Wendla as much. Wendla desperately wanted time alone with Ilse, away from the others. It had been about a month since Melchior and Moritz had started dating, and Wendla felt herself feeling jealous of their relationship.

She could only think of one thing to do--ask Ilse out.

It was a Thursday afternoon, dark and gloomy, thunder shaking the entire school. Wendla watched the raindrops hit against the window, desperately hoping for the day to go bye faster. She had planned to ask out Ilse after school, but with her current state Wendla wasn't sure she could. Her hands were clammy and shaking, and she couldn't seem to stay still in her seat. She couldn't remember a time when she was so nervous.

Finally, the bell rang for the end of class and Wendla found herself sprinting out of her classroom like a bat out of hell. She ran to Ilse's locker, only to find it abandoned. Rushing out of the school, Wendla spotted Ilse among the mobs of students fleeing the building.

She was five feet from Ilse in a matter of seconds, but once she was there she froze. She had no idea how to ask her. Wendla had never dated anyone in her life, much less ask someone out! Sure, during middle school she had a small crush on Melchior, but all the girls did back then.

This was suddenly so real that all the words she had though of to say were lodged in her throat, unable to escape as Ilse kept walking further away. In her last attempt at successfully using her vocal chords, Wendla managed to call out "Ilse!" just loud enough that Ilse turns back toward her, glancing around for the owner of the voice. Wendla noticed her hand raise up to wave, seemingly not of her own accord. Ilse smiled and half walked, half ran over to Wendla.

"Hey," she breathed, her gaze meeting Wendla's for a moment, then faltering as she stared at her shoes.

"Hi," Wendla grinned, face growing red even before she said anything.

"So, what's up?" Ilse asked softly, brushing her hair behind her ear.

"Oh," Wendla exclaimed, "right. I was just wondering if you...."

She paused.

"If you would be interested in... in..."

Ilse gave her a quizzical look. Wendla gulped.

"In... going on a... date with me?"

At that moment, Ilse smiled so wide Wendla swore her smile was brighter than any star. It almost felt like it wasn't the most dreary day of the year. The clouds weren't there, only Ilse. Only Ilse.

Then her smile faltered, and Ilse looked confused, or lost. 

"I thought you liked Melchior!" Ilse exclaimed.

"Melchior?! He's dating Moritz!"

"What?!"

Wendla suddenly erupted into a fit of giggles. "I can't believe... Oh my god," she gasped.

Ilse's cheeks grew red. "Since when?" She asked, mortified that she hadn't figured that out. 

"Since we were downtown helping Moritz buy clothes for their date!" Wendla laughed.

"Well no one signed me any of that!" Ilse said indignantly. 

"You're cute when you're angry, you know," Wendla purred. 

Ilse looked like soaked kitten in the rain, dark hair sticking to the sides of her face and hanging in her eyes. 

"So?" Wendla asked. "Are you up for it?"

Ilse smiled, then took Wendla's hand in hers. 

"I'd like nothing more."


	3. I Thought Perhaps We'd Only Talk...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update! Thanks for the comments and kudos:)

It really wasn't fair, to be honest. Hanschen had been trying for years to get Ernst to date him, but he was never very good with the whole "asking someone out" thing, so he'd always just drop subtle hints of his fondness for Ernst.

It never worked.

Hanschen concluded that Ernst was either too dense to catch on, or (even worse) he just wasn't interested. No matter how many times Hanschen practically dragged Ernst to his house to do homework, cracking jokes about various gay historical figures, Ernst did nothing. Hanschen was growing weary. He was beginning to doubt that he would ever be anything more than a friend to Ernst. He decided there was only one other person he could get advice from about this.

"Talk to him!" Wendla exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

Hanschen had invited himself over to Wendla's house--or, rather, showed up and let himself in. Not that Wendla cared. She was happy to share her house, and her m&ms with him.

"That's what Moritz said! You know I can't do that!" Hanschen threw an m&m at Wendla, hitting her square on the nose. She glared back at him.

"At the rate you're going, you'll be 40 by the time he realizes you're trying to flirt with him. You're usually so good at this! All the boys fall head over heels for your smooth moves. Have you lost your touch?"

Hanschen dramatically fell back onto the couch, groaning, "it's different with him! I really like him, Wendla."

"Don't worry about it darling," Wendla said, patting Hanschen's head. "He likes you too, I'm sure if it."

Hanschen scoffed. "And you'd know this how?" Wendla laughed, "How could anyone not like you?"

"Says the one dating the girl," Hanschen mused. Wendla shoved him off the couch.

"Hey! I'm just saying, how would you know whether anyone likes me?" Hanschen grumbled, scrambling back to his seat. "Because you're a _good person_ , Hanschen!"

Hanschen rolled his eyes.

"You're smart, and funny, and..." she paused. "As much as you don't want people to know this, you're really sweet. Anybody would be lucky to have you."

Hanschen snorted. "Do have a confession to make, Wendla? Are you thinking of asking me out?" Wendla threw an M&M at him.

"Oh, shut up! You know I have a girlfriend." Her face softened. "Just talk to him. Seriously. He's definitely in love with you."

"We're in highschool. We don't 'fall in love.'"

"Whatever you say."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ernst absolutely _loved_ spending time with Hanschen. He loved when Hanschen would walk with him in the hallways at school, or when Hanschen would help him with the harder math problems he always had trouble with. Ernst sometimes wondered why Hanschen even wanted to be around him, but he tried not to think about it too much. Ernst had always known he was anything but attracted to girls, but now that he found himself having thoughts that were... Less than decent, the fact that they were about Hanschen worried him.

Hanschen wasn't, if Ernst were to be completely honest with himself, interested in having a long lasting relationship.

Ernst _was_ interested in a relationship.

With Hanschen.

Ernst couldn't stand it, how he pined after Hanschen like a lovesick puppy. He wanted to be more dignified. He wanted to accept that the things he wanted were never going to happen. Even if Hanschen was hanging out with him for some _other_ reason, Ernst was nothing more than a toy for when Hanschen was bored. As much as Ernst wanted Hanschen to truly care about him, he tried to accept that Hanschen didn't. Tried.

Still, whenever Hanschen's hand would brush his as they walked home from school, or when Hanschen would make eye contact with him while trying to get him to understand his English homework, or when Hanschen would laugh after Ernst would say something amusing... Ernst found his heart fluttering in his chest, his face flushed.

He couldn't go on like this.

Only in highschool, and yet he felt as though his entire world revolved around Hanschen.

~~~~~~~~

Hanschen was always calm, always collected. Which was why it was so unbelievable when he found himself unable to speak when he finally decided to admit his feelings to Ernst.

No later than nine, the sun has almost completely set as Hanschen approached Ernst's window. It wasn't exactly difficult to get to, being on the first floor and all. He just snuck around to the side of the house and knocked. The shades were drawn up, and Ernst appeared, his face lit.

Hanschen noticed he was in his pajamas.

Striped.

Matching.

Of course.

Hanschen grinned sheepishly at him, unsure of what to do. Ernst opened the window.

"What are you doing here?" he whispered. Hanschen shrugged.

"I--" he paused. What was he doing there? Wendla had told him to "talk to Ernst," but Hanschen didn't know what he was supposed to say. What could he say? He never was very good at articulating his feelings. 

"I don't know," he admitted. Ernst looked doubtful. 

"Is something wrong?" Ernst asked. Hanschen ran a hand through his hair, nervous.

"No... I mean, yes... I--"

"What's wrong? You never act like this. You can tell me Hanschen. You know you can tell me." 

Hanschen glanced at Ernst, then looked away. 

"Please tell me--" 

"It's nothing, I just... Never mind." 

Then Hanschen knew there was nothing else to do but leave. He was never going to admit his feelings to Ernst. He never admitted his feelings to anyone. As far as the general population was concerned, Hanschen had no feelings. So, he ran. He ran away from the window, away from the house, away from Ernst. He ran until he reached his house. Slowing down as he walked up his driveway, here reached his garage and leaned against the door, catching his breathe. Hanschen brought his hands up to his face and groaned. He was so /stupid!/ Why had he left Ernst? Ernst probably thought Hanschen hated him now... Which couldn't be further from the truth. 

~~~~~~~~

Ernst watched in silence as Hanschen ran back around the side of the house, fading into the darkness. He thought to yell out for Hanschen, to tell him not to leave. 

He wanted to apologize for pushing him. 

He wanted to apologize for telling Hanschen to tell him all his problems. 

He wanted to tell Hanschen it was ok if he stayed silent, that he didn't have to say anything. 

Everything Ernst wanted to do at that moment required Hanschen to be there. 

But he wasn't. 

Because Ernst had driven him away. Ernst had never seen Hanschen like this. So unsure of himself, so vulnerable. It was like his entire image was washed away, leaving behind such a raw, truthful sight. 

Ernst didn't know what to make of it. He closed the window and sighed, returning to his bed. He had a hard time falling asleep that night. 

At school the next day, Hanschen didn't talk to Ernst in the morning classes. During lunch, he sat down on the other end of the table from Ernst. Ernst's heart ached. He felt unbelievably guilty for his actions the night before. He must've really affected Hanschen, who wouldn't even look in his direction the entire day. All he wanted was to make it up to him. 

~~~~~~~~ 

Hanschen felt horrible. 

From the looks he caught on Ernst's face, it was clear that Ernst wasn't pleased. He desperately needed to apologize, but he didn't know how.  Lunch was just as unbearable as class, if not worse. 

"You ok Hanschen?" Ilse had asked at lunch. 

Hanschen felt like he was going to be sick. On Ilse's right Wendla looked at Hanschen, worried. He simply looked away, attempting to look bored. 

"I'm fine." He spat. Ilse dropped it, and continued talking to Wendla. 

"You don't sound fine." Hanschen swerved his head to his other side. Melchior. Of course. 

"What the hell does it matter to you?" Melchior glanced over at Ernst, who wasn't listening to their conversation. 

"Well, you're not sitting by Ernst, which hasn't happened in..." Melchior paused, thinking. "...I don't know how long."

"Not to mention you're being very defensive about this," Moritz added. 

"Shut the hell up, Stiefel." Hanschen growled. Moritz shrunk in his seat, head bowed down. 

Melchior frowned. "Hey. Don't take out your anger on Moritz, he didn't cause whatever you're whining about."

"I'm not whining about anything!" Hanschen protested 

"Whatever." Melchior turned away and murmured something to Moritz. 

Hanschen didn't talk to anyone else during lunch.  By the final bell, Hanschen had had enough of not talking to Ernst. He caught Ernst by the door before he could leave. 

"Hey." Ernst's eyes widened.

"I'm sorry about last night!" Ernst whispered before Hanschen had a chance to say anything. 

"What do you mean?" He asked. "I should be apologizing." 

Ernst refused to make eye contact. "No, I... I'm the one who pushed you. I shouldn't have tried to make you talk." He lowered his head. Hanschen was baffled. Was this why Ernst had been avoiding him? He felt guilty? 

"No, Ernst no. You didn't do anything wrong... It's me. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left." Ernst looked like he was about to cry. 

"I thought you hated me," he said in a shaky voice. 

Ernst sniffed.  _Oh no he IS crying..._ Hanschen realized. Hanschen didn't know what to do. 

"I don't hate you Ernst," he said in what he hoped was a comforting tone. Ernst looked up at him. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered. 

"Stop apologizing." Hanschen groaned. "You haven't done anything wrong, I..." He stopped. "I still have to tell you something." 

"What is it?" Ernst asked. Hanschen glanced around the empty hallway. 

"Not here," he whispered. He took Ernst's hand in his and they made their way to the park nearby.

~~~~~~~~~ 

Ernst was now officially in a state of unbelievable confusion. Hanschen _wasn't_ mad at him, that much he knew... But where were they going? And why? He huffed as Hanschen dragged him along down a dirt path near their school, his blonde hair practically glowing in the late afternoon sun. 

"Here." Hanschen came to a halt and Ernst nearly tripped over a large root in the path. It took a moment to register where "here" was. It was a rather small clearing in the woods, with nothing more than a small swing set and a rusty metal slide that looked anything but safe for children. 

"What is this?" Ernst asked. 

"I don't know," Hanschen admitted. "I came across it one day, and... I come here when I need to get away from it all." 

He looked over at Ernst who noticed that Hanschen still had his hand in a firm grip. 

"Want to sit?" He offered, motioning to the swing set. Ernst nodded and followed Hanschen to the swings. Hanschen let go of Ernst's hand. They sat in silence for what seemed like forever. Ernst didn't know if Hanschen was ever going to say anything. Finally, Hanschen spoke. 

"I want to apologize again for yesterday." 

"I already told you, you don't have to--"

"No. I do. I was there for a reason, I... I need to tell you something." Hanschen looked at his feet as he slowly rocked on the swing. Ernst smiled. Not because he was happy that Hanschen was so nervous, but he was happy that Hanschen was letting down his cover... Being who he truly was. 

"What is it?"

Hanschen looked up at Ernst, his expression unreadable. Suddenly, as if it slow motion, Hanschen leaned in and kissed him. After less than a second, he broke away. 

"I'm sorry..." Ernst took his hand. 

"No, it's ok..." 

"I want you to know, Ernst, I... I do care about you." Ernst smiled. 

"I care about you too." Hanschen looked doubtful. 

"No, I mean... Not just because I want to... get with you." Ernst let out a short laugh, embarrassed. "I really just enjoy being around you." Hanschen paused, blushing. 

"You make me feel... Warm."

"Warm?"

 "Inside. I feel... Happiest? ...When I'm with you." Ernst grabbed Hanschen's hand. 

"Thank you." He said. Hanschen looked confused. 

"For what?" he asked. 

"For telling me how you feel. For being honest." Frankly, Ernst was relieved. 

"So now what?" he asked. 

"Now," Hanschen began, "what do you say we take our 'friendship' to the next level?" 

"What do you m--" Ernst didn't have time to think. Before he could finish his thought he found the blond boy's mouth on his. 

Ernst playfully shoved Hanschen away from him. "Isn't this what happened to Wendla? Ilse ran away from her too? You two should start a club," he teased. Hanschen blushed, turning away.

"I really am sorry," Ernst's face softened. 

"I know. It's ok, I'm sorry too. Let's go home." 


End file.
